Chasing Courage
by qwell
Summary: Blaine's story, starting with his own transfer to Dalton Academy and eventually ending in... well, Klainebows.
1. Chapter 1

It was two o'clock in the afternoon.

Blaine Anderson fidgeted in his seat. He was sitting in his last class of the day, U.S. history. The bell would ring in exactly five minutes, and his only objective was to make it safely out of the school and out to the parking lot, where the car he received for his birthday last month would be waiting for him. He could do this.

When he thought about it, Blaine wasn't sure exactly when his life had become one giant game of hide n' seek. Except without the predictability. Or the fun. Okay, so maybe his life had become slightly more like one of those predator specials on the nature channel, and as much as he hated to admit that he was nothing but prey to these angry, ignorant buffoons, it seemed like the most honest comparison.

He tensed on the edge of his seat, as the clock ticked. _56... 57... 58...59..._

The shrill sound of the ringing bell echoed through his ears, and he stood quickly, grabbing his bag and easily making his way toward the door before anyone else had even stood. He opened it, glanced out, and then darted down the hall. Through the Science hall, out the side door, around but not ever _through_ the courtyard, dodging crowds of kids gathering together for one last conversation. He saw the buses ahead of him, which meant he was almost home free. He just had to make it around to the back parking lot, and he'd be good to go.

He made his way around the building, through one of his shortcuts, and as he rounded the back of the school, a shadow crossed his path and he stiffened. Raising his eyes slowly, he was met with the face of Lincoln High's resident neanderthal, one Nicholas Ramsey. Nick was smirking, and Blaine felt the cold shudder of dread pressing down on him as he saw a few more jocks making their way towards them.

He swallowed, hard, willing the lump of fear in his throat to subside as he choked out, "Leave me alone, Ramsey, or-"

Nick made a sudden movement as though he was going to hit him, and despite himself, Blaine flinched, and his pathetic attempt at sounding authoritive died in his throat. He could feel something burning in his stomach, some culmination of hatred, fear, frustration, and anger, and he swallowed a few more times and did his best to glare at the boy in front of him.

Nick, however, smiled broadly, turning to his friends, who now surrounded Blaine and left him with not even the faintest hope that he might be able to run his way out of this mess, and crowed, "Look at the little faggot! He's trying to threaten us, isn't that just fucking precious?"

"Yeah," one of the guys behind Blaine shoved him forward, and his knees buckled. Suddenly he found himself on the ground, his hands scraped from the concrete and his eyes stinging with bitter tears that he wouldn't let fall. They laughed. "Yeah, it's real fucking cute."

Blaine made to stand up and felt someone kick him from the side, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling back to the ground again. He heard laughter, again, and his ears were ringing.

He wasn't stupid enough to think he could attack any of them and live to tell the tale, but he was just so _angry_. He hadn't done anything to provoke them! He had gone out of his way to avoid them, in fact, and they searched him out anyway. He hadn't even really expected anything to happen today, had just wanted to get home so he could hole up in his room and be okay for a while, because it was Friday and he wouldn't have to see this place for two days. Lying on the ground, eyes trained at the concrete, he yearned for anywhere else. He was so tense he could feel his teeth grinding, and everything in him screamed to fight back. It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair! He wasn't sure how many times he'd said that in the past few weeks, but maybe one of these times it would have some effect.

He could hear guffaws and talking and the word "faggot" being thrown around above him, but he stayed where he was. He couldn't fight them, and maybe he was being a coward by staying on the ground, but in that moment he didn't care. He just wanted them to leave him alone.

Getting no reaction from him, someone kicked him again, on the same side as before, but harder this time, and he let out a hiss of pain and his fists clenched underneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. He blocked out what they were saying, choosing instead to sing loudly in his head as he waited for something to happen. For them to get bored, or for himself to lose consciousness, something, anything. His ribs were beginning to ache worse than anything he'd felt before, and he could taste blood in his mouth. He tried to take in a breath and thought he would pass out right then; the pain was excruciating and he just couldn't take it anymore. He let the tears fall, gasping for breath and sending out one last mental plea that this _just wasn't fair, please make it stop._

"He's crying like a little bitch!" someone crowed, and Blaine didn't have the energy to even care anymore. He heard more laughter, and heard someone's shoe pulling back from the gravel, knew they were going to kick him again, and tensed, waiting. The blow never came.

"Shit," someone muttered instead. "It's Green."

Just like that, his forgotten bag was being thrown down on top of him, thankfully not coming near his ribs, which still ached like they were on fire. He raised his head as much as he dared, and saw them running towards the parking lot, scattering toward their respective means of transportation. From behind him came a woman's voice.

"Blaine?"

Her tone was soft, concerned, and he turned as much as he could to see the school's current guidance counselor, Shannon Green, leaning towards him.

"Hi," he choked out, trying as hard as he could to sound normal, and failing so hard that he heard a slight chuckle escape him. "It's nothing," he tried, attempting to sit up, but the pain in his ribs flared and he let out another hiss of pain. He knew he wasn't fooling anyone.

Her eyes had been scanning the parking lot, but he knew that they would be gone by now. He was surprised to see that even the buses had left, leaving the back lot with a cold, deserted feeling. She turned to him as he forced himself to his feet, picking up his bag and lending her arm to help him balance himself. His head was pounding and he saw her cast him a concerned, calculating look.

"Blaine," she started, but he waved her off, slinging his bag onto his shoulder (the non-injured side, of course), and spitting on the ground again.

"It's okay. They're just-," he stopped, because he didn't know how to finish that sentence without letting on just how much he hated them, just how much he wanted to inflict on them exactly what they did to him, and then some. "It's not usually this bad. It doesn't- it doesn't normally go this far. Just words, mostly."

She shook her head. "Blaine, I don't care if this is the first time it's happened or not. It is still extremely out of line." She frowned. "Come with me. We're going to go to my office and call your parents. You're going to tell me who was involved, and I'm going to write them up for it. Now come on. I'll carry your bag."

Blaine hesitated, and then realized that he didn't have the energy to argue, and even if he did, she wasn't going to just let him walk away. So he gently took his bag off and handed it to her, and let her lead him back into the school.

-x-

It wasn't long before Blaine found himself sitting in the principal's office with his parents and Ms. Green, trying to explain what had happened. He ached all over, and his ribs were still in a lot of pain whenever he coughed, or stood, or inhaled. He tried, though.

"No," he found himself explaining for the third time, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes for a second. "It's not the first time, but usually they just... say things. They've only hit me once before, a few weeks ago. Ramsey punched me in the stomach," he added before anyone could ask.

"And why did this all start?" Principal Wood asked, looking at Blaine under furrowed brows.

Blaine glanced at his parents. His father's teeth were clenched, staring at the wall behind the desk, but his mother was looking at him with a sad expression. He turned back, and took a deep breath.

"Because I came out three weeks ago."

He didn't remember much else of the conversation. He had been told that they were going to "review matters" and "see what could be done", but he knew the second the words left his mouth that it wasn't going to be taken seriously. The principal had mentioned, off-handedly, that there might be complications due to the fact that no one but Blaine had witnessed anything.

Even Ms. Green had pulled him aside before he left with his parents, to tell him that she didn't think it was fair at all, and that her office was always open if he needed to talk. That had been nice enough, but she had ended the conversation with, "Blaine, I know it's hard, but you're doing an incredible thing here, just by being who you are. Some people just don't know how to deal with it, is all, but you know who you are, and that's what really counts."

Her words left a bad taste in Blaine's mouth. So it was okay for people to knock him around, as long as he knew who he was? What kind of backhanded bullshit was that?

It didn't matter, though. At this point, he was almost used to that sort of treatment.

He climbed into his own car and followed his parents home, trying as hard as he knew how not to think too hard about what had happened. Or how his father refused to look at him. Or his mother's pity.

His hands clenched the steering wheel, and he just felt so exhausted. He ached, everywhere, especially the left side of his body. He was pretty sure the pain came from someone's foot bruising his ribs, and he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for days.

When he turned into the driveway, his father was already inside, but his mom stood out by the car, waiting for him. He sighed, and then got out of the car. He didn't want to deal with this right now.

"Baby," she said, wrapping him into a hug, and it took everything in him not to cling to her and burst into tears, begging her to fix things. She wasn't always the best mom, but sometimes he still felt exactly like the terrified little boy who had once crawled into his parent's bed after a particularly bad nightmare, and that had to count for something. He felt her hand on his back, rubbing in circles. "It's okay, baby, it's going to be okay."

He sniffed into her shoulder, too exhausted to care, now, that he was acting like a stupid little kid.

"I'm sorry," he told her, a plea in his voice that he was sure she wouldn't catch. "Mom, I'm so sorry."

"Shh, shh, it's okay," she repeated, holding him tighter. He didn't even complain about the pain in his side as she did so, because she was his mother, and he just needed someone to make him feel like things actually would be okay.

She let him go after a moment, though, and looked at him sadly. "I hate to leave you like this, but your father and I-"

He remembered, suddenly, what day it was, and disappointment hit him quickly. "The benefit dinner. I remember."

"If you want, I can stay," she began, but he could see in her eyes that it was an empty offer.

He shook his head. "No, it's fine. Go. It's been planned for weeks. I'm just going to sleep it off anyway."

"Are you sure? We can-"

"It's fine, Mom," he repeated. He turned away from her and headed up to the house, somehow feeling more alone than he had before. "Have fun at the dinner. I'll call if I need anything."

He was in the house before she could respond, making his way up the stairs as quickly as he was able to. Reaching his room, he closed the door, kicked off his shoes, and headed into his adjoining bathroom, glancing at his reflection as the light came on.

He looked like _hell_. He looked nearly as exhausted as he felt, eyes slightly red and slight shadows under them. He had apparently scraped his chin on the concrete earlier, and stepping back, he noticed that his posture looked exactly like what you would expect from the way his side was aching. He fumbled in the medicine cabinet until he found pain killers, downing as many as he could handle and then stood back to look at himself in the mirror again.

He reached down and peeled his t-shirt off slowly, wincing, and bit his lip at the sight. The skin on his side was already tinged yellow, deeper color showing through in spots that he was sure would be much more vibrant tomorrow. The beginnings of what he could tell would be a horrific bruise seemed to measure about a foot long, running from the side of his chest down to his stomach. He brushed his fingers on it, lightly, testing the pain and clenching his jaw at how tender it was.

He could feel himself shaking.

This wasn't... this wasn't how things were supposed to _be_, he thought, slamming his fist on the doorframe and feeling his eyes prick with tears for what felt like the millionth time. Coming out wasn't supposed to ruin his life! He had always thought he would be one of the rare cases of acceptance. But now his father wouldn't speak to him and his mother was depressingly useless about everything, and his life at school had turned into some kind of nightmare. His grades were dropping, he was being harassed, and now people were kicking the shit out of him for no reason other than that they felt like it, and he was just supposed to _deal with it_?

He felt so lost, he realized as he crawled into bed that night. Everything was wrong. Everything.


	2. Chapter 2

When Blaine awoke on Saturday, it startled him to realize that he had slept not only through the night, but clear into the afternoon. Sunlight poured through his window, casting the entire room in light, and for a few moments, Blaine was deeply, deeply confused.

He heard a light rapping on his bedroom door, and realized what had woken him up.

"Just a minute!" he called, climbing out of bed and rubbing at his eyes. The events of the previous day came back to him quickly, because like many other unpleasant things, he just couldn't forget for too long, and he groaned as he pulled himself to his feet.

His body ached, everywhere, but he didn't really want to think about why, or how badly, or any other unfortunate things, so he didn't. He made his way to the door and opened it, aware that he probably looked about twenty different kinds of terrible, but seriously not caring. His mother's face greeted him.

"Hi, honey," she said, and she was smiling of her trademark smiles, one which showed nearly no emotion and almost looked glued on. He yawned, and her smile slipped into an almost stern frown. "Did you just wake up?"

He nodded, waiting to find out what this was about. It was an extremely rare occasion for one of his parents to make the trip from their bedroom upstairs down to his, and he was used to being left to his own devices. This was... yeah, kind of odd.

"Never mind that. We need to talk," she finally said, after a silent moment. Blaine gazed at her, expressionless. "Come on. Downstairs. There's coffee."

Blaine heaved a sigh and followed her out of the room.

-x-

Roughly ten minutes later, Blaine sat across from his mother at the small island counter in the center of their kitchen. His father was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't the least bit surprising. This must be one of _those_ conversations, he realized. One that was simply too abnormal or uncomfortable for his father to sit through. He drummed his fingers on the counter.

"Well?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and waiting for her to just get it over with. Whatever it was.

"I received a call this morning," she began. He gave her his best unimpressed expression, so she sighed and continued. "It was your guidance counselor. The one who we talked to yesterday."

Blaine took a sip of his coffee, trying to figure out where this was going.

"It seems that she and the principal talked about the situation after we left yesterday."

'The situation'. What a stupid term, Blaine thought. It felt so safe. So neat. So delicate. Like it wasn't a big deal at all. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"And?" he prompted, his fingers continuing to drum against the side of the counter.

His mother sighed. "_And_... she feels that there isn't much hope that anything will be done about this."

Blaine wasn't sure why he felt like his his heart had just sunk into his stomach. His fingers stopped drumming, and his hands clenched into fists of their own accord. He hadn't really expected it to just go away, per se, but... Things had never gone that far before. Sure, they had only kicked him around a little bit, but what if it went further? What if something happened? He wasn't sure he'd be able to take much more.

"Oh," he muttered when he finally found his voice. He stared down at the counter, suddenly painfully aware of how soon Monday would come. "Is that all?"

"No," she responded, and he peered up at her. What else could be going on?

Blaine was shocked to see a slight smile on his mother's face. He waited, pulse quickening as he wondered.

She took a long sip of her own coffee before continuing. "Ms. Green did mention something else, actually, and I've spent the morning looking into it. It seems like a suitable alternative, and your father and I have agreed that if you want to do it, we won't have any issues."

"What are you talking about?"

She smiled at him. "Dalton Academy."

Blaine was fairly sure he had never been more confused in his life. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

"Dalton Academy For Boys," she repeated. She stood up and crossed the room, plucking a small stack of paper that he hadn't noticed before from one of the larger counters. "It's a private school in Westerville. We can more than afford to pay for tuition, and you'll receive an outstanding education while you're there."

She handed him the pages before sitting down again, and he glanced down at the top sheet. It appeared to be a printout of a few pages of Dalton's website. There were pictures of the campus, course lists, an overview of the code of conduct, and lists of clubs and sports and oh, god, his head was starting to hurt.

He stared at her. "Mom, I-"

"No, honey, let me finish," she interrupted, smiling at him. "This school has a zero-tolerance policy for bullying, which is enforced. It shouldn't be hard to get you in, considering the pull your father has, but you know that, of course. I've spoken with their admissions office and we can have you transferred by the end of the month."

"Wait, but I-..." Blaine wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure what to _feel_. "Mom, I don't-..."

"Of course it's up to you," she reassured him. "But the classes would be more challenging, and there wouldn't be anymore of these... situations. Blaine, sweetie, think about it. You'd be boarding, of course, because the commute back and forth is just out of the question, but the students there are far more mature than those you go to school with now. We just want you to be safe," she finished, looking at him imploringly. "Please think about it."

Blaine nodded distantly, head spinning as he stood up. "Yeah, I-... I'll let you know."

She looked pleased as he left the room.

-x-

_A boarding school_, he thought later, after spending a long time just sitting on his bed paging through the school's information. A _boarding school._ And one with a zero tolerance policy for bullying, no less!

Blaine wasn't really sure what he thought about it, but his initial reaction was that it was too good to be true. He had been holding onto dim hopes of just _dealing with it_ for a few more years, long enough to graduate and attend a nice liberal arts college of his choice, somewhere far away, where he could be _himself_, whoever that was. But this! Dalton was close enough to what he had assumed was an idealistic fantasy that his heart actually ached at the prospect. He could go to this school, with its beautiful campus and challenging classes, he could make friends and graduate with a high GPA and everything would be so perfect.

It occurred to Blaine fleetingly that maybe this counted as running away. Would this make him a coward? Did it mean he was weak, so weak that he couldn't even handle going to the school he had attended for two years like a normal teenager, and had to take refuge somewhere miles away?

For a while, Blaine almost believed that. But then he realized that maybe the truly strong thing to do would be to accept that he just wasn't safe where he was. He wasn't _happy_ where he was. And if leaving it all behind would change that... then why not?

He wouldn't have to wait around for his life to start anymore. Here was a place where he wouldn't be pushed around. Here was a place where he wouldn't have to deal with his parents treating him like a disappointment, or a stranger. Here was a place where he could figure himself out. Here was a place where he didn't have to feel worthless. Here was a place where no one would know who he was.

It came to him in a sudden moment of clarity. _No one would know who he was._ This was his chance! Not to get to know himself, but to _create_ himself. Thanks to the school's policies, he wouldn't have to go back into the closet, but he would be everything he had always wished he was, because no one would know any different.

He could be _cool_, he reasoned. He could be calm and collected and articulate and confident and he could be every single thing he'd never had the chance to be before.

And not a single person would be able to tell him any different.

Heart racing, Blaine ran back downstairs to announce that he'd made his decision.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, wow. I've just recently started writing again, (apologies if that's pretty evident.) but I wasn't really expecting anyone to actually read this. I started writing this to brush up on my skills, and also because aside from as much klaine as they can possibly show, the main thing I want from Glee right now is more Blaine developement, or even just background. So this happened. It's been a long time since I've written fic, and I never have for this fandom, or even on this site, so thanks for bearing with me while I get used to things. I know this chapter's shorter than the other one, and I'm sorry if the pacing's kind of weird, but hopefully things will improve.<strong>

**Long ramble is long.**

**Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you so much to anyone reading/reviewing/subscribing, and I plan to have the next one up as soon as possible!**


	3. Chapter 3

It took two weeks for Blaine's transfer to go through.

Just two weeks.

He almost couldn't believe his luck. He was excited, more so than he could remember being in a long time. A very small part of him was apprehensive, caught up in wondering if this could really work out the way he wanted it to, but he kept himself busy enough to keep those thoughts at bay.

He returned to Lincoln High just once after making the decision to leave it for good. It was on a bright, cheerful Wednesday afternoon, and while ordinarily, the drive from his house to the school would be enough to completely wreck his nerves, that day was different. It was different, because Blaine knew, as walked into the school with a slight bounce in his step, that he was only hours away from never having to see it again.

He had been excused from his classes in light of his transfer, so he went straight to the guidance office, where Ms. Green beamed at him and gave him a lot of forms to sign. He made a quick trip to his locker, collected his things, and then stopped in the bookkeeper's office. It only took a few minutes to return his textbooks, and then he was done.

He was officially no longer a student at Lincoln High School, he realized as he walked back out to his car. He grinned to himself.

As he drove home, he pondered the idea that he would never have to walk those halls again. It was so freeing, just the idea, and he felt like he could do anything he wanted to. He could spend the day out. Go get coffee, go shopping, see a movie, or just drive out of town and never look back. He yearned for the day he would leave for Dalton, when he would leave this town and embark on what he was still almost entirely convinced was going to be the best thing he had ever done.

But then, he realized, there was still work to be done, so he pushed those thoughts out of his mind temporarily and continued his journey home.

-x-

Blaine Anderson, by nature, was a very self-aware person. In the past, and even, hell, who was he kidding, in the present, Blaine was very much aware of his flaws. He had believed for a long time that they were all he would ever amount to. He had been sure that he would always be this insecure little boy who always seemed to make the wrong decisions. He sometimes thought that he was too naive for his own good, because Blaine liked to believe that things would get better. He liked to believe that one day he would wake up and the world would be right again, and he would be the person he was supposed to be. He liked to imagine that that person would be successful, would be accepted, and sometimes he even liked to think that he wouldn't be alone.

Blaine had never really had close friends. He'd had the sort of friends who were interchangeable, who he could sit with at lunch and trade small talk with in the halls, but he had even lost the few there were when he decided to come out. He had become too much of a target for the casual friends he'd had at the time to stick around, and so they hadn't. He had never had anyone to hang out with on weekends, or to talk to on the phone, or even to grab coffee with. No, Blaine was very much used to being alone, but that didn't mean he liked things that way.

He accepted that he was somewhat of a dreamer. He often got caught up imagining what his life would be like post-graduation, or after college. He got lost inside his head, where everything was the most ideal it could possibly be, and the best part was that he was never alone in any of his fantasies. As much as he knew it would be a long while before he could have the sort of relationship that everyone around him seemed to pick up with ease, he still liked to think about how maybe someday, he would fall in love. He didn't know with who, because in his head, the boy was always nameless. But Blaine liked to imagine that one day he would have someone who understood him to a fault, who made him feel warm and loved and appreciated, and all of the other things that Blaine yearned to feel. He thought that they would maybe live together, and that maybe by then he would be a singer or a musician, or something else, anything else, as long as he was happy and successful and satisfied with his life.

As his transfer to Dalton Academy approached, Blaine became more and more determined to make his dreams a possibility. He didn't much care about getting a boyfriend or anything of the sort at the moment, because his goals were much grander. Blaine knew that if he was going to fit in at this new school, he would have to change a lot of things about himself, and he didn't mind this one bit.

It could very easily be dubbed the least cool two weeks of Blaine's existence, but he had to start somewhere, he reasoned. So he made a list. He wrote down the positive qualities that he was going to have to embrace if he was ever going to be the person he wanted to be at Dalton. He was going to have to be confident, that much was a given. It was at once the easiest to name and the most difficult to achieve, but he would have to work on it. Being sure of himself was something he would have to learn if he ever wanted to be successful at anything, and if he couldn't learn it, well, then he would have to fake it.

If this was truly his second chance, then he would make sure that he didn't blow it. He didn't want to make the same mistakes again. He had a firm ideal of what his Dalton life would be like, and he was intent on giving it his best shot.

It was all or nothing, and he refused to ever become the person he had been at Lincoln again.

For those two weeks, Blaine practiced. He practiced thinking before he spoke, because the fewer instances of blurting out awkward, unnecessary things he had to encounter, the better. He practiced standing up straight. He went for a walk one day and practiced smiling politely at strangers he passed on the street, exchanging shallow pleasantries before continuing on his way. He got his hair cut, and then experimented with hair product and gel until he learned how to make even his wild curls look civilized.

He read a few articles on the internet, which advised him to always be kind, courteous, and respectful, to keep his tone even and to use others' names often.

Blaine would never admit it to anyone, and would in fact deny it to the death if anyone were to ask, but he even spent an hour in front of his mirror the night before he left for Dalton, practicing smiling charmingly.

"My name is Blaine Anderson," he tried in a clear, steady tone, smiling impressively at his reflection. "I'm new here."

He almost didn't recognize himself. He was pleased with his progress.

Blaine ran a quick hand through his hair, ruffling it up a bit to make it seem as though he hadn't just dolled himself up to practice being cool in front of his mirror, and then ran downstairs.

He found his father sitting in their living room, staring into the fireplace, where a bright fire crackled back at him. He clutched a glass of whiskey in his left hand, and Blaine sighed, but pretended not to notice.

"Dad," he greeted, stepping into the room and coming to sit in the armchair next to his father's.

Mr. Anderson barely glanced at his son as he sat, only giving a slight nod in response. He took a long sip from his glass, and Blaine waited, but no words came.

"So I'm supposed to meet the woman from the admissions office at the school tomorrow morning," Blaine finally said, breaking the silence. He bit his lip slightly before adding hopefully, "Did- Did you want to drive up with me?"

His father didn't turn, just continued to stare into the fire as Blaine spoke.

"You can drive yourself, can't you?"

The question surprised Blaine, and he faltered. "Well, yes, but I thought-"

"You know how I feel." His father had finally turned to look at him, but his steely gray eyes seemed to gaze far past Blaine himself. His words were simple, but the tone was enough to kill Blaine. He turned away after a second and took another long sip of whiskey as though nothing was wrong, before adding under his breath, "Maybe that school can fix you. Make you... normal."

Blaine stood up quickly, his face suddenly burning inexplicably. He heard his mother come into the room behind him, heard her ask, "Did you want me to refill your drink, dear? Oh, Blaine, honey, I-"

"I'll drive myself," Blaine said firmly, backing away. "I- Of course. I'll go by myself."

He turned to head back upstairs, breaking into a run as soon as he left the room. He could hear his mother asking in a low voice, "What's wrong with him?" and his father replying that it was nothing, but he would, in fact, like some more whiskey.

Blaine shut his door firmly behind him after stepping into his room. He took a few deep breaths. This was nothing. It was _nothing_. He was okay. He hadn't really expected anything else, had he?

He didn't allow himself to think about the answer to that question, instead choosing to busy himself with making sure everything was packed. Tomorrow was a big day, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Up next: Dalton.<strong>

**Soon after: Kurt.**

**A very big thank you to everyone reading this, again. I hope you're enjoying yourselves, and that I'm not screwing with characterization too badly. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine left for Dalton Academy as the sun was coming up, soft yellow light only just beginning to filter through the clouds.

He had woken up early, his parents still asleep, and hadn't even bothered waking them to say goodbye. He wanted to get away from them as much as he wanted anything else Dalton had to offer, and though he expected he would receive an angry phone call from his mother later, he couldn't bring himself to care. He had tamed his hair, as well as he could, before dressing in his brand new uniform. The immaculate white shirt, navy-and-red striped tie, crisp gray slacks and black dress shoes gave him a much more formal look than he was used to. Last of all was his new blazer, a smart-looking navy blue jacket with red trim and a prominent Dalton crest over the breast pocket. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that he looked... well, dapper was a word, and he smiled. His bags had been packed for days, and it didn't take him long at all to load them into the backseat of his car.

And that was it. He was ready.

As Blaine stood in his driveway, it started to dawn on him that he really, actually, finally was leaving. He glanced back at his house, the one he had lived in for as long as he could remember, with its picture perfect exterior and stiflingly white siding, and he started to feel like it wasn't really his home anymore. But then, maybe he'd felt that way for a while.

He got into his car and pulled out of the driveway, eyeing the house until it was out of sight. He turned off of his street and, around the corner, passed the park he'd played at as a child. His memories of that simple little playground were good ones, from long ago, before everything had started to change. He slowed down, suddenly anxious, because maybe this wasn't right, this leaving everything behind thing. Maybe, just maybe he was making a mistake. What if things were bad at Dalton, too? Their website had proudly proclaimed that the no-tolerance bullying policies were enforced, but Blaine knew how easily things could slip under the radar. What if turned out that things were just as bad, if not worse, than things had ever been here, and he was stuck there after his parents had paid so much for tuition? They were fairly well-off, the Andersons, but he wondered briefly if he would be entering a school full of stereotypically snobbish and elite rich kids. They would surely look down on him, and then what?

_That's why you have to fit in, _Blaine reminded himself, stirring from his reverie of doubts and continuing on his way. _You just have to. Just be like everyone else. Even if you have to pretend._

Even still, nervous tension continued to eat at him. He turned on the radio to distract himself. He flipped through stations full of news or monotonous talk shows for a few minutes before settling on the first one he found that was playing actual music.

It was an hour's drive to Westerville, and he kept himself entertained the whole way singing along to cheesily upbeat top 40 morning radio.

-x-

The first glimpse Blaine got of the actual school made his mouth drop open in surprise. The pictures he'd seen had done it absolutely no justice. He could hardly believe this was a _school_; the architecture of the main building gave the greater impression that it could be a very large, old-fashioned mansion, or even a small palace. There were smaller buildings littering the grounds, some of which looked like houses, and they were even nicer than the one he had grown up in.

_Those can't possibly be the dorms...?_ he thought, still gaping as he took in the ridiculously rich landscaping. It was late fall, which meant that there was a blanket of warmly colored foliage covering the ground. Trees surrounded the parking lot he was parked in, but through them he could see at least one large fountain, directly in front of the main school.

He remembered that he had a meeting with admissions to attend to, and stepped out of his car, closing the door behind him absently as he continued to stare at everything. He couldn't believe this was a school. He couldn't believe that this was a school he got to _attend._

He walked up the sidewalk leading to the doors, and within moments confirmed that there was, in fact, a very large fountain ahead of him, and besides that he could see a few statues elsewhere on the campus. He shook his head and walked to the front door.

_Confidence,_ he reminded himself quickly, and then stepped into the school.

If he had been impressed by the outside, he didn't know what had hit him once he was through the doors. Thanks to his father's somewhat notable presence in the upper-class community, Blaine had been subject to several black-tie events and formal dinner parties throughout his life, and just the entrance hall of Dalton was extravagant enough to floor him. He barely noticed the students milling around him in full uniform as he stared. The high ceilings, the wooden paneling, the ornate furniture... This could not possibly be his new school. He had to be dreaming.

Inconspicuously, he reached down and pinched his arm.

Okay. So, yeah, maybe not dreaming.

Blaine blinked, suddenly realizing how full the hall was. He felt a small clench of nerves in his stomach, but ignored them, taking a few steps forward and looking around for the offices. The hall he was standing in was round in shape, with hallways branching off into three directions, and a large wooden staircase directly in the middle. Blaine could see a few heavy oak doors scattered around, but there didn't seem to be any flashing neon signs proclaiming **NEW STUDENTS: THIS WAY.**

He would just have to ask someone then.

"Excuse me," he said as an Asian boy passed by him on the way to class. The boy turned, raising an eyebrow, and Blaine quickly continued, "I'm new here, and I was just looking for the admissions office?"

To Blaine's complete and utter surprise, the boy smiled.

"It's nice to make your acquaintance. My name is Wesley Price," He offered his hand for Blaine to shake, which Blaine hurried to accept. "You can call me Wes."

"I'm Blaine Anderson," Blaine responded, smiling back as charmingly as he could manage.

"Admissions is that way," the boy- Wes- informed him, pointing down a slightly narrow hall. " It's the first door down on the left side."

"Thanks," Blaine said, flashing a grateful smile. "I guess I'll see you around."

Wes just nodded politely and continued on his way. Blaine turned and headed toward the corridor he'd been pointed to, going through the first door on the left as he had been directed. He found himself in a small outer-office, a receptionist's desk in the middle of the room and more offices behind her.

He walked up to the receptionist's desk, thinking back to remember the name of the admissions officer he was supposed to be meeting with.

"Hello," he greeted warmly, smiling at the young brunette behind the desk. She looked up from her computer screen and raised an eyebrow in question. "My name is Blaine Anderson. I have an appointment with... Patricia Davis?"

She nodded and stood up.

"Right this way," she said, escorting him down the hall. She stopped at an open door and gestured him into it.

"You must be Blaine," the woman inside the office greeted as Blaine walked in. She gestured for him to take a seat, smiling warmly at him. "I'm Mrs. Davis. Welcome to Dalton."

"Thank you," Blaine replied, reaching across the desk to shake her hand before settling into a chair. She was an older woman, probably a bit older than his mother, with blonde hair pulled back into a neat bun. She wore glasses with a thin black frame, and a dress suit as red as the piping on his jacket.

She slid a folder of paperwork across the desk to him. "Now I know what situation you're coming from, and I want to make very clear to you that you are in no danger here. Our policies are enforced, and everyone is treated the same. If you have any problems, you can speak to myself, any of your teachers, or make an appointment with the headmaster and we'll work something out.

Blaine nodded, listening aptly as she continued.

"It isn't typical for students to transfer in the middle of a semester like this, but we understand that you're a special case. We hope our facilities will be a better fit for you than your old school," Blaine nodded again, and began to glance through some of the paperwork as she explained, "There are some forms in the left side of that folder that I'll need you to fill out, and on the right side you'll find some forms for your own reference, including a map of the campus, your timetable, and a few other general information forms. Did you have any questions?"

_Yes. Is this school even for real? _Blaine thought, but shook his head in response.

"No, ma'am. I think I've got the idea," he replied, giving another polite smile.

"Good. I'll just leave you for a moment to fill those out, and see if I can find someone to give you a small tour," she said, standing up. She paused before leaving the room, simply saying, "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll fit in just fine."

Blaine glanced back just in time to see her smile at him, and then she was gone. He shook his head, slightly overwhelmed by his entire day so far, and turned to the paperwork. It was simple enough; he had to fill out all of the small details that hadn't been handled before his arrival, had to skim through and sign a code of conduct manual, and then just had to sign his agreement to adhere to the school's uniform policy, and that was it. He was done.

Mrs. Davis returned soon enough, a short black-haired boy behind her. He grinned at Blaine, reaching out to shake his hand.

"I'm Nick," he introduced himself.

"Blaine Anderson. Nice to meet you."

Nick's grin seemed to grow, and he clapped a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "So, are you ready to see everything?"

Blaine, though slightly taken aback at Nick's enthusiasm, nodded. "I guess so."

"Awesome. Come on," Nick was heading out the door before Blaine could grab his things, and he hurried after him.

From behind him, Blaine could hear Mrs. Davis calling, "Don't get him into any trouble, Nick!"

Nick just shook his head, pushing open the outer-office door and leading Blaine back into the entrance hall. It was entirely empty now, the halls completely silent. Blaine figured classes were in session.

"Is there, ah... reason for her to worry about that?" Blaine asked lightly, still hurrying to keep up with his guide.

Nick shrugged, leading him down the hall to the left of the front door. "I've had some encounters with the Board of Discipline, but hey, who hasn't?" He glanced back, and laughed at Blaine's double-take. "No, I'm just kidding. My buddy Jeff and I like to keep things... interesting, is all. She's familiar with our work. But don't worry. You're in good hands."

Blaine wasn't sure that he was at all reassured by that.

"Here we go," Nick said, stopping suddenly. "First stop. This is the Social Hall. There's another upstairs. The Juniors and Seniors have their commons; the lower classes have this. You can come here whenever you aren't in class. Use it to study, to hang out, whatever, as long as you're not making too much noise."

Blaine peered through the doorway to see a large room filled with wooden desk and work tables. There were a few boys in there already, all of whom appeared to be studying quietly. Several tables sat against the wall, containing what looked to be small, fully stocked coffee bars.

"This is impressive," Blaine said, prompting Nick to laugh again.

"Just wait," he advised, and then he was leading Blaine off again.

"I'll show you the Junior Commons in a little bit. It's technically exclusively for Juniors, but one of the clubs I'm in has a little... show scheduled between classes." Nick smirked, ducking quickly down yet another hallway. He obviously knew the school fairly well. Blaine wasn't sure he'd ever be able to find his way through this maze. "I think you should see it."

"What kind of show?"

Nick just shrugged, and gestured in front of them. "This is the cafeteria. Fairly self-explanatory."

It wasn't anything special, of course, but it looked much nicer than Blaine's old school had had. Nick barely paused in front of the doors before turning and heading away from it. "The library's next."

As he was led down what felt like fifty different hallways, Blaine started to feel grateful that he had been given a map. The school felt huge.

"Here we are," Nick said brightly, and this time, he actually led Blaine through the doors instead of looking in from the hall.

"I-... wow," Blaine managed, gazing around at the huge room. Bookshelves seemed to be _everywhere_, and there was another floor above them. There were empty tables everywhere, and an area the size of the entrance hall just for individual computer stations. It was larger than any library he had ever been in, and there seemed to be more books than even the largest bookstore in the mall near his house. "Okay, I take back what I said before. _This_ is impressive."

Nick laughed. "Isn't it? I didn't know libraries could be this big until I came here. You're pretty much guaranteed to find any book you'll ever need for your assignments. There are even private study rooms upstairs."

"Wow," Blaine repeated. He walked over to the nearest bookshelf and started skimming titles, in complete awe of this school.

Nick let him poke around for a few minutes before glancing at his watch and nearly jumping. "Oh! Come on, we've gotta get to the commons. We've only got a few minutes before it starts."

"Before what starts?" Blaine asked, slightly confused, but obediently letting Nick steer him out of the library and back out into the hall.

"You'll see."

Nick led the way to a staircase, and they jogged up it, walking quickly down the hall once upstairs. Within seconds, a bell rang, and students began to pour into the hall around them. Nick led Blaine through the crowd, dodging between everyone else easily, and after a moment Blaine realized that a lot of them seemed to be heading the same way. The arrived at the commons within minutes, slightly out of breath, and Nick grinned quickly at Blaine before disappearing to join a group of blazers at the front of the room.

Blaine saw him stand carefully next to a taller bleach-blond boy, who slipped him a quick low-five, before they both bowed their heads like the rest of the group. The room was full of students standing around the group, and Blaine knew the hall right outside the door was packed as well. He started to turn to ask what was going on, but just then, it started.

A low hum rang through the group up front, and then they all raised their heads at once as the tall brunette up front began to sing.

_I know a place_

_Where the grass is really greener_

_Warm, wet, and wild_

_There must be something in the water_

The boy singing lead smirked at the crowd, all of whom were either laughing or cheering the performance. The group had started dancing, spinning on the spot and swaying to the beat. It took him a few seconds to realize that this was entirely a capella, that far from any instruments even being in the room, the noises he was hearing were all voices. He stared, stunned.

_Sippin' gin and juice_

_Layin' underneath the palm trees_

_The boys_

_Break their necks_

_Tryin' to creep a little sneak peek_

_You could travel the world_

_But nothing comes close to the golden coast_

_Once you party with us_

_You'll be falling in love_

_Ooooooooh, oh oooooh_

This was obviously some sort of glee club. But Blaine had never encountered a 'cool' glee club in his life. Weren't they the ones at his old school who had been considered beneath the chess team members and the A/V crew? But here... the crowd seemed used to this, like it wasn't even surprising for impromptu performances to happen between classes.

_California girls, we're unforgettable,_

_Fine, fresh, fierce, we got it on lock_

_Daisy Dukes_

_Bikinis on top_

_Sun-kissed skin_

_So hot we'll melt your Popsicle_

_California girls_

_We're undeniable_

_Fine, fresh, fierce_

_We got it on lock_

_West Coast represent_

_Now put your hands up_

_Oooooh oh oooooh _

_This is insane_, Blaine thought. A popular high school glee club! At an all-boys private school! Singing Katy Perry, of all things, while their schoolmates cheered them on! _Absolutely insane._

When the performance finished, however, he found himself applauding just as hard as anyone. He couldn't believe how good they were. He couldn't believe he had just enjoyed a performance by a glee club. He wasn't sure what was going on, but whatever it was, it was fantastic.

As soon as the song was over, the group took a deep bow, which was met with wild clapping. It was _surreal._ The room began to thin out as everyone headed to their next classes. Nick came back over to Blaine, laughing, and the taller bleach-blonde accompanied him.

"So what'd you think?" Nick asked with a wide grin, still slightly out of breath but looking fairly jubilant.

"That you guys are insane," Blaine answered, eyes wide.

Nick and his friend laughed.

"That about sums it up," the blonde said, grinning at Blaine. "Hi, I'm Jeff. You're Blaine Anderson," he added before Blaine could respond. "Awesome to meet you."

"Are you two giving the new kid a hard time?" someone asked from behind Blaine, and he turned to see a tall black boy standing next to the boy he had met that morning in the entrance hall.

"I'm David, and this is Wes," he said to Blaine, who nodded.

"We met this morning."

"Oh, well then I can tell you, yes he is like that all the time," Jeff informed Blaine. David smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Nick! David hit me!"

"That's the second time he's done that today. You know, I'm starting to think he's just doing it for fun," Nick said faux-sternly, with a glare at David.

Blaine watched them all, slightly amused, but also feeling slightly like he shouldn't really be there.

"Guys," Wes interrupted. "Stop giving Blaine the impression that we're all clinically deranged. How about that?"

Jeff heaved a heavy, put-upon sigh. "I _guess_. If you _insist._"

"I do," Wes said primly, and then turned to Blaine as though nothing had happened. "So. How _did_ you like the performance?"

"It was really good," Blaine said, because, well, it was. "I'm just really not used to seeing a glee club be so... well-received."

David laughed. "Everyone here loves the Warblers. We do stuff like this all the time."

"Extra-curriculars are a big part of Dalton," Wes added expertly. "We just happen to be one in one of the most popular groups on campus."

"Hey, Blaine, do you sing?" Nick asked him, grinning again. "Maybe you should try out."

"I don't know. I've never really given it a shot," Blaine said, aiming for an apologetically charming look.

This was a lie, of course. Blaine had spent many afternoons of his pre-pubescent years dancing around the house while his parents weren't home, belting out everything from Disney classics to very poor reenactments of movies like Dirty Dancing, in which he was Jennifer Grey, dancing with his imaginary Patrick Swayze, and singing I Had The Time Of My Life as he twirled around his bedroom. He wasn't a bad singer, he didn't think; in fact sometimes he rather liked his voice, but he had never joined chorus or anything at his old school because he had had enough to deal with and hide without being a _male singer in glee club_ on top of things.

The boys didn't push it further, though, and Nick checked his watch and turned to Jeff, "Dude, you're late for English."

"Crap!" Jeff exclaimed, leaping up from the couch he had been leaning against. "Why don't you guys have to leave? This isn't fair."

"Lunch," David supplied.

"Free period," Wes agreed, looking dignified.

Jeff rolled his eyes and headed out of the room.

"Tell Hopkins I'm only late because Davis has me showing the new kid around!" Nick called after him. "It was entirely out of my control!"

"I'll tell her you were eaten by bears!" Jeff called back cheerfully.

Nick, Wes, and David rolled their eyes in unison.

"So!" Nick said, turning to Blaine. "Ready to see the dorms?"

Blaine's head was spinning. This school was overwhelming in its absurdity.

Still, he nodded.

"Great! See you guys later," Nick said brightly to Wes and David, and proceeded to lead Blaine from the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Um. So this isn't how I thought this was going to go at all, but I hope you guys liked it anyway! And I also hope it wasn't too similar to how Kurt encounters the Warblers for the first time, Katy Perry aside. Thanks to everyone reading. Reviews are fantastic. Thank you all so much. I hope to have the next one up soon.<strong>


End file.
